Deepika Padukone and the Earthquake man

[hotaks]

‘Hi!’

The knotted ball of her fist smacked with stunning force into the center of his face. Nimbly she darted round behind him in time to catch his limp, unconscious bulk before it hit the ground, and briskly began packing him away into the nearest locker.

‘Hey, Terry, are you in...’

Deepika winced at hearing the voice from the door behind her. She twisted round to see the second armed guard standing there, his puzzlement at not finding his companion darkening swiftly into suspicion at finding her.

‘Crap,’ she muttered. ‘I mean...’ She gave him a sunny smile. ‘Hi there! How’s it going?’

He drew his gun and cocked it in the fast, practiced motion of a professional.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he barked. ‘What are you doing in here?’

She widened her eyes, giving him her innocent look.

‘Nothing, nothing. Just been for a swim. I’m back on duty in five minutes so if you don’t mind I need to get changed.’

‘A swim?’ Brow creased with mistrust, he approached slowly, gun leveled at her heart.

‘Sure.’ She was conscious of the locker door beside her swinging slowly open under the unconscious guard’s weight and without looking she slammed it firmly shut with a thrust of one arm. ‘Are you interested in marine life? I’m sure I spotted a marlin today.’

With a careful display of unselfconsciousness, she stretched up one arm to the top of the locker, forcing her breasts up against the restraining material of her wetsuit, and shifted her weight onto one foot to display the curve of her hip.

‘You have a pass to go outside?’ he asked, his eyes starting to wander over her figure.

‘Of course.’

She took a step forward, patting her sides as if in search of a non-existent pocket. Immediately he leveled the weapon.

‘Stay back!’

‘Woah!’

She quickly put her hands up high and retreated all the way to the far wall, beneath the shelter of one of the shelving units, forcing him to follow her.

‘No need to be like that,’ she said reproachfully. ‘Obviously I don’t have my pass on me, it’s in my locker. Why don’t I show you?’

The guard frowned.

‘I never heard of anyone getting a pass to go outside and look at the fishes. You’d better come along with me to security. We’ll soon get to the truth.’

Deepika’s lips formed a perfect ‘O’ of woeful distress.

‘Oh, must I?’ she asked plaintively. ‘It’s just that I’m supposed to...’

‘Quiet.’ He jerked the gun at her. ‘And since you’re unidentified you have to be searched. Get that suit off.’

She quailed, hugging her arms shyly about her midriff.

‘Oh. Um, it’s just that I don’t have... much on underneath...’

‘Get on with it. You waste my time, you’ll get yourself in worse trouble.’

With a resigned sigh Deepika did as she was told. Slowly, with every sign of reluctance, she pulled the zip down from her neck to her waist and watched the guard’s eyes tighten over the muzzle of his gun as inches of wet, gleaming skin were unveiled. Underneath she wore only the briefest of orange bikinis, and as she slipped the suit down over her shoulders she bashfully pulled it close about herself, pushing her breasts together and forward, making the flimsy garment’s material strain to hold them in.

The guard licked his lips.

‘Come on. No stalling.’

Forlornly she obeyed, pushing the wetsuit down over her slim hips and letting its wrinkled, empty mass slide down the silky skin of her thighs to lie at her ankles. Her bikini bottoms had become rolled down an inch or two during the operation, displaying her flat belly and hips to her interrogator’s avid, lustful eyes. She raised her hands again.

‘As you can see,’ she said with just a hint of a coquetry, ‘I’m not hiding anything.’

For a few seconds he was content just to stand and eat her up with his eyes; her toned, lightly tanned skin, her small, pert breasts, the sexy thighs which writhed enticingly together as in her embarrassment she attempted to hide herself from him. He snapped himself out of it and jerked his head towards the door.

‘Okay. Get moving, then.’

‘Wait!’ She swallowed and looked down nervously at her feet. ‘I... I don’t really have a pass, you know.’

Confidence swelling at having elicited the admission, he took a step nearer.

‘I knew it.’

‘I didn’t mean any harm,’ she protested appealingly. ‘Honestly, I just wanted to see the coral reefs. They say we’re going to destroy Britain tomorrow so I thought it might be my last chance!’

‘That’s not going to impress my section chief when I turn you in. You’ll get a month’s punishment detail, minimum.’

‘Oh, please.’ On the verge of tears, her lips quivered. ‘Do you really have to turn me in? Couldn’t you, I mean...’ She looked at him in desperate hope. ‘Couldn’t you maybe give me a break just this once? I’d be ever so grateful.’

He smiled and took another step closer so he could stretch out his arm and rest the muzzle of his gun in her cleavage. She shivered but remained still, her hands stretched up over her head.

‘How grateful is that?’ he asked.

‘I’d be very...’ She felt the gun barrel move down between her breasts, pressing down on her bikini top. ‘... very...’ The skimpy garment stretched under the pressure, her breasts millimeters away from popping free. ‘Grateful!’

With a sharp tug she brought the overhead shelf crashing down. Flattening herself back against the wall, she stood and watched the guard get buried under a noisy avalanche of carelessly stowed scuba gear. Deepika allowed herself a smile at the sight of his gun hand sticking up out of the heap, the automatic still clutched in his fist.

‘Thanks,’ she said, and plucked it from his limp fingers. Hurriedly she raided the locker she had spotted earlier and was still pulling the ill-fitting garments on when she made her way out through the door the guards had come in by, finally penetrating the inner corridors of the complex itself.